


He could see the stars that night

by haywoodyoublowme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haywoodyoublowme/pseuds/haywoodyoublowme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is my first destiel fic!! and my first fic that contained a sex scene!! wow!!!! mama's gonna be so proud :') hope you liked it!!</p>
    </blockquote>





	He could see the stars that night

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first destiel fic!! and my first fic that contained a sex scene!! wow!!!! mama's gonna be so proud :') hope you liked it!!

Awake.  
He's awake.  
  
Castiel has been sleeping for 4 hours, a new record for this past month.  
  
The clock near his bedside in the bunker read 3:12 AM in bright red numbers. He rolled to the edge of his bed, blanket now only covering the lower half of his body, and he promptly set his feet on the ground and stared at the wall in front of him. He rubbed his palms into his eyes then dragged his hands down his face and opened his eyes. The room was dark, and he got a chill from a draft seeping through the open door across from him.  His clothes lay on a chair near the door, and he was sitting in bed with boxer shorts and an AC/DC t-shirt lended from Dean on.  With a low sleepy sigh he stood up, the blanket now fallen on the floor. He ambled out the door and into the living room, dropped to the couch, tipped his head back, and stared at the dusted ceiling above him. He was cold  
  
Ever since he'd lost his grace, everything was a blur. Sleeping was a new chore brought about to his daily life, one he never thought he'd have to partake in. He's known the mechanics of human life, the human body, what it needed to survive. So, he already had known the steps in going to sleep. Though, that doesn't necessarily mean he can do those steps easily. It should be a simple process, really. But every time he attempts in closing his eyes, his brain fogs over with memories of every past era, and every horrible thing he's ever had the displeasure of dealing with in his life, and it gives him a headache, putting it mildly.  
  
He's lost grace, his wings, all part of him previously angel is gone except for his memories. And keeping said memories in a human brain isn't possible, and he's beginning to forget things. Though some memories gone, he still remembers when he fell. He remembers fear, the feeling of having tears running down his face, how it felt to feel the cold and to feel the pain surging throughout his body like electricity from the impact of his fall, and how he needed to _move_. He thinks about it often, but when he does, it makes the headache he gets from trying to sleep worse.  
  
He most of all misses his wings. He really, really, missed his wings. It isn't as if they were incredible, he felt as though they couldn't compare to his brothers. Many angels in Heaven had wings far superior to the ones he had, but still, he missed him. He misses being able to fly. Being able to flash somewhere entirely different in an instance. From Mexico, to Romania, to China, and to the Impala which was parked outside of the bunker. It's been 3 weeks since he'd lost his grace.  
  
He shut his eyes and inhaled a breath. His eyes grew tighter, and he started seeing blurs of white in his vision. A creek of the floorboards snapped them back open. "Dean," he said quiet and patient. "Yeah, sorry. I heard you wake up. You alright?" Castiel's eyes squinted slightly, trying to make out the outline of Dean's face, whilst still comprehending things. "Yes, I'm alright," he tried to say it as innocently and sincere as possible, but it still must have come out tainted with lies because Dean replied to him with a frown and he sat down next to him. There was silence for a moment, both of them simply staring blankly in front of them. But then, Dean turned to him. "Hey, uh, Cas," Castiel turned to him, head tilted. "I'm really sorry about your grace," Castiel sighed and turned away from Dean's gaze.  
  
From the corner of his vision, Castiel could see Dean opening and closing his mouth as if attempting to say something, and he turned to face him. Dean didn't say anything, just looked back. Castiel admired his skin, his features. His freckles reminded him of a certain night he remembered faintly from long ago when he was stationed in Earth when he was an angel. He could make out constellations colliding on his face, galaxies forming on his jawline, meteors falling in his eyes, and stars brighter than any he's ever seen on his lips - his lips - oh god his lips, "Cas, I," Castiel snapped out of it and blinked, his eyes grew wider and his gaze hotter as he listened. "I really am sorry, about everything." Confused, Castiel's head gave a slight tilt again.  
  
"Dean, none of this was your fault-," "Yeah Cas, it was," there had been an obvious hint of frustration in his tone, "Dean-" "Cas." Castiel understood that there wasn't any point in argument, because he wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise if he tried. "I just... I'm sorry, okay?"  
  
Deans gaze went from being locked to Castiel's to locked on the floor, looking away. Castiel smiled, "Thank you, Dean. I will be alright." Dean turned his head to face him again and smiled back, but his smile was broken. Dean admired Castiel's smile, but it left his face as fast as it had came, and Dean wishes more than anything that he could be able to see Castiel smile again like he used to do so much more often than now. As their stare was back again, Dean admired Castiel's face for what it was, fucking beautiful. Wait, shit, what? No, no, not beautiful. Dean was backtracking his words trying to decide how he picked that word as a describing word for Castiel's features. Trying to understand _why_ he was picking a word to describe Cas's features in the first place. His mind raced, trying to understand himself and what he just did.  He should have hated it, the fact that he was staring at this previous Angel of the Lord, who also happened to be a man, and thinking of words to compliment him. But he didn't.  
  
Then he was just trying to figure out if there was going to be an opening for him to be able to kiss him.  
  
 _Dammit._  
  
Dean watched Cas breathe. Just, breathe. Staring at him breathing, like he was waiting for something.  
  
Dean raised his hand slowly from his thigh and manoeuvred it to the side of Castiel's face. "Dean?," Cas gave a slight jerk backward and his eyes peered open wide and stared and Dean, pupils racing back and forth scanning from Deans ruffled hair, to his neck, to his shoulders, and so on. Dean chuckled low and soft, the darkness of the room now seemingly growing brighter with every breath he took and every sound he made. Finally, contact was met, and Dean's hand was now covering Cas's cheek. Castiel, still looking confused, attempted to say Dean's name, but no words could be voiced and he only made shuddered breath. Dean's body pulled closer to Castiel's, and his lips were less than an inch away when Castiel tilted his head forward, causing their lips to now meet.  
  
It was chaste, feathered, pure. To Castiel, it was as if sparks were emitting from their mouths and illuminating the room around them. He wanted more, and he gripped Dean's shoulders nearly as tight as he had pulling him out of hell, and pulled him in closer. Dean mewled out a moan and Castiel began slipping his tongue into Dean's mouth, wanting so much to see what it had tasted like, and Dean let him. He put both hands on Castiel's back and pulled him closer, then falling back, letting his shoulder blades curve into the leather of the couch, and Castiel now lay on top of him.  
  
Castiel's movements were rough, and full of desperate wanting. His lips moved down from Dean's own and to his jaw, then to his neck, and leaded down to his chest. Dean sat up for a moment and pulled his shirt over his head, only to be pushed back down immediately afterward. Cas started to suck at his collar bone and he let out a moan, then traced his lips further down Dean's body. "Shit, Cas," his erection was constricted by his jeans and boxers and Castiel has continued to lead down his body. Castiel removed his T shirt, then began to unbutton Dean's jeans, and once he had Dean pulled them off and pulled Castiel closer.  
  
"Shit, _fuck_ , Cas," Dean mumbles, his hips now rolling towards Cas, his dick needing an urgency for touch. Cas removed his boxers, the sight of his hardened dick was enough to make Dean groan. Dean pulled off his own and grabbed at Cas's dick. " _Dean_ ," Cas gripped at Dean's cock aswell, both of them jerking each other off. Cas pulled down closer to Dean and shoved his tongue into Dean's mouth, both of their cocks now rubbing up to each other causing such a fucking good friction which Dean could only describe it as being fucking _amazing_.  
  
"Cas, shit, I'm gonna- _fuck_ -" Dean let out a moan so loud he was afraid it would have woken Sam, and came on Castiel's stomach, and Cas came soon after he had. "Shit, that was," he tried to think of some way to describe it, but he only came up with " _great_ ," and Castiel smiled. "I had hoped so," and Dean smiled back in return to him. It was just now kicking in what just happened, he just had sex with Castiel. _He just had sex with Castiel_. He laughed, and hugged Castiel close to him, it was warm and dirty and they loved it. "We really should return to our rooms, it would be difficult if Sam catches us in such a compromising position," Castiel exclaimed. "How about I just come to yours?"  
  
The next morning they woke up tangled in sheets, pressed together, with Sam standing in the door way looking absolutely _horrified,_ and Dean was howling with laughter so hard that he thought he was going to start crying, and Castiel was laughing too.  
  
It was one of the best mornings he could remember. 


End file.
